


To Make His Own Way

by violasarecool



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Gen, Light Angst, Sibling Rivalry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-14
Updated: 2016-05-14
Packaged: 2018-06-08 09:33:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6849094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/violasarecool/pseuds/violasarecool
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>carver's still trying to find his place in the world, but everything seems to be against him. hawke can be a bit of an asshole but she's trying her best (kind of. mostly..... by the end anyway.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Make His Own Way

**Author's Note:**

> i have a lot of feelings about carver ok, he has such a hard time of it, and it's made worse by the fact that carver fights with my hawke _all the fucking time_ , her being both purple hawke AND a mage. 
> 
> carver is unimpressed.

It was early in the morning; Hawke had just put out food for their family Mabari, and Hawke sat crouched on the floor, watching her scarf it down.

"Andraste, look at that pig," Gamlen said. You'd think she hadn't eaten in days."

"Always hungry, aren't you, Ser Bark?" Hawke reached over to scratch her behind the ears.

Gamlen snorted. "She's the biggest mouth to feed out of all of us, and she doesn't even pay—"

The door slammed open, and Hawke heard a quiet intake of breath from their mother on the other side of the room as Carver strode in. "Did you know about this?" Carver demanded, stopped in front of Hawke.

Hawke raised her eyebrows. "Sorry, I think I missed the part where you _actually_ tell what you're talking about before storming around the house."

"Don't play coy with me," he snapped.

Gamlen shot Leandra an unimpressed look as he left the room. "Children, please," Leandra said, but Carver ignored her.

"Aveline," Carver spat, glaring at Hawke. "I hadn't really hoped she'd use her influence to help me get the post, but I didn't think she'd actually tell them not to take me!"

"Ah." Hawke stood up, wiped her hands on her pants. "I can't say I'm surprised, really. You're not exactly fond of following orders."

Carver shot her an incredulous look. "You're defending her? What, you don't think I'm good enough to be a city guard? I was a soldier just like Aveline. What makes _her_ better than _me?"_

"She _is_ better at staying between the lines," Hawke said dryly.

"Oh, great," Carver said, throwing up his hands, "thanks for your support." He stalked past her to the writing desk, flipping through the letters there.

"Do you actually _want_ to be a guard?" Hawke asked, somewhat baffled. "It doesn't really seem your thing."

"I don't know. What other choice do I have?"

"You could always start a trade," Leandra said consolingly.

"Who would take a Fereldan apprentice?" he retorted. "Maybe in another year I could work my way up to _pissboy_."

"Mm, what an impressive title _that_ would be," Hawke said.

Carver spun around to give her a withering look. "Maker, why is everything a _joke_ to you? You may be able to pull money out of your ass impressing people with your _witty jokes_ — _"_

Leandra paled. "Carver!"

"—but I've done the same work as you, a _year_ of petty thievery, and who do people remember? Not the _younger brother_ , that's for sure. Hell, I don't even know I'd even _get_ work if I didn't come as a matched set with the _impressive_ Hawke."

"What do you want me to say, Carver?" He looked away, and she sighed. "If there was a way to instantly make this right for you, I'd do it right now. But I can't _live_ for you."

He was silent, for a moment, and with his back still turned to her, she almost thought he was ignoring her. Then, he made a quiet huffing sound. "No, you can't. That's why I've got to do this on my own."

Hawke frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"I'll still come with you when you need me, for a bit, anyway, while I'm figuring things out. But I need to make my own way," he said, turning to give her a look that was almost pleading, begging her to understand. And for once, she almost felt like she _did_ , almost completely understand what was going through his mind, what he was feeling.

Self-loathing held a place of disquieting prominence.

"Ok." She scanned his face, unsure if he was going to say something else, unsure of what _she_ should say. "I hope you find what you're looking for," she finally said, voice breaking on what was possibly the most sincere thing she'd said to her brother in seven years.

He gave her a sad smile. "So do I."


End file.
